Two dreams, one meeting
by Paige Terner
Summary: A short what-if involving Castle and Beckett meeting before they were the Castle and Beckett we know and love.    I own all the following characters. I also have a bridge in Antarctica to sell you.


"What can I get you?" asked the obviously bored barista standing behind the stained counter.

"I'll have a grande skim latte with two pumps sugar free vanilla, please." replied the well dressed woman as she ran her fingers through her short, red hair.

"You know what would be good with that?" The question came from the man standing behind her in line. "A bear claw." He answered his own question before she could turn all the way around to see who was speaking to her.

Right away, Detective Kate Beckett knew who the pastry pusher behind her was. It was Richard Castle, her favorite author. She had read all his books. In fact, his books had touched her life in so many ways. The novels he had penned were the glue that had held her together while she fought to find peace after her mother's murder. And now, here he was, getting a cup of coffee. In line behind her at her favorite coffee shop. It wasn't the first line of people that they had in common. She had gone to a book signing of his once. The line there was long, but she waited. She just had to meet the man behind the words that helped to heal her.

His sparkling blue eyes were being lit up by the crooked little smile on his face that was currently surrounded by a hint of scruff. The top two buttons on his shirt were undone, allowing just a bit of chest hair to peek out. The jacket he was wearing fit him perfectly, every seam falling exactly where it should. He was, in a word, breathtaking.

Suddenly, Detective Beckett realized she was staring at the writer. She closed her slightly open mouth, swallowed hard and then regained her usually unwavering composure. "Thanks for the suggestion. I'll keep that in mind." she replied while turning back around.

"Excuse me Miss, but do I know you?"

Detective Beckett realized that Castle was speaking to her again. She didn't want to admit that she was a fan, right there in the crowded shop. She was already having trouble containing her excitement. She turned back to him and simply said "No. I don't believe we've met." and turned away quickly.

As Castle took in the details of the woman in front of him, he noticed her long legs encased in jeans were enhanced even more by the high heels on her feet. Her leather jacket hung perfectly on her shoulders and her adorable hair-cut made her look younger than she probably was. He also couldn't ignore the shiny badge on her belt and the gun on her hip.

"Of course we haven't met, because I would not forget a beautiful woman such as yourself. In fact, I could see you as a character in one of my books. And I definitely wouldn't forget one of my own creations. I'm Rick Castle. I'm a writer. But you probably knew that." he said, as he stuck out his right hand towards her.

"Detective Kate Beckett. Sorry, can't say that I've heard of you." she lied as she turned slightly to shake his hand.

"Detective. Oh, you keep getting better and better." Beckett began to blush and tried to turn away, but Castle wouldn't let go of her hand. She cleared her throat, getting his attention, and he released her.

"Funny that you haven't read any of my books though. They are mysteries and you are a detective. Also, I am quite famous."

"Sorry. I don't have a lot of time for reading. You know, with solving mysteries and stuff." She answered over her shoulder. She could not believe she had just said that. How stupid could she sound?

"Here is your drink, ma'am." Beckett had never been so happy to get a cup of coffee. She paid quickly and turned to leave. Castle blocked her momentarily.

Their eyes connected as he said "If our paths cross again, I'm going to get you that bear claw. That's a promise." He stepped aside and let her pass.

"Thank you, Mr. Castle. It was nice to meet you." Beckett called out as she walked out the door.

"Oh no. The pleasure was all mine." replied Castle, under his breath. He watched her get in her car and drive away. He left the coffee shop, no longer interested in caffeinated libations. He needed to get home and write. A new idea was forming fast in his head.


End file.
